SPN Fic: I Swallowed Hard, Like I Understood, PG
Title: I Swallowed Hard, Like I Understood
Word Count: 1000
Rating: PG
Characters: John, Dean, Sam, Jimmy Novak
Spoilers: None
Summary: AU. There was something weird about that Jimmy Novak kid, something John could never forget.
A/N: Thank you SO MUCH to kimboosan who helped me flesh this idea out and encouraged me to write it. This was meant to be the first part of my big bang, but instead it's now a series of John-centric fics.
I Swallowed Hard, Like I Understood
He'd remembered the kid with the unnervingly bright eyes and out of place old soul. Couldn't recall the name of the school or the town, but the kid, Jimmy, that boy stuck with him. He'd come knocking on their door one day, not at all swayed by said door rusting off its hinges in some run down old motel on some dusty old back road he'd likely been told by his folks to stay away from. John had been at the ready, sawed off full of salt aimed at the door, whispering to Dean who was two steps behind with a protective hand out in front of Sammy and a knife in the other, that he'd never known no demon to knock first.
"Best tell me who it is," John had all but ordered before the kid had said he was looking for Dean.
Sammy had run towards the door then, darting past both John and Sam, shrieking in his still prepubescent voice something about no one ever coming to see them and Jimmy and how freaking awesome was this. John had tucked the gun behind him and up against the wall, taken a step towards the door and the awkward looking, skinny kid. He'd called him sir then, Jimmy had, respect in title and in those bright eyes looking right at him. John had wanted to ask him questions, military training and hunting skills always keeping his every nerve on edge. He'd wanted to ask how he'd found them there in that shit hole of an abandoned old motel, why he was looking at Dean like he'd just struck gold and why he shouldn't just pull the plain old pistol out of his waistband and shoot the kid square between those weird eyes that he ain't never seen on a human before.
Dean had stepped past John, genuine surprise and something like curiosity tucked all messy behind his emerging hunter's mask when he'd looked at Jimmy, asked him what the hell he was doing there, how the hell he'd found them. Dean'd looked at Sam and John knew that he'd wanted to blame him, to maybe rationalize that excitement over an unexpected visitor and come to the conclusion that sure, Sammy had told this Jimmy kid where they were but Dean had never been one for getting his baby brother into trouble, even at his own expense and John had held on to that feeling of pride for his boy even as the prickling awareness of the situation had crawled over his skin.
"Friend of yours?" John had asked Dean, eyes square on Jimmy.
Dean had stammered, not at all like himself with the unsureness of his answer before Sam had interrupted, reminding Dean how awesome he'd been that morning and how those boys had deserved what Dean had done to them before quietly asking Jimmy if he was okay. John hadn't needed to ask Dean anything then, the boy was obedient almost to a fault when John was around, knowing that he best come clean with the morning's events or there'd be a price to pay. He'd spit it all out quickly and without preamble, the story about the steroid injecting, jacked up meat heads who'd pushed Jimmy off the rickety old dock and into the cold November water and about how Dean'd just returned the favor for Jimmy, scaring one kid to run right off and pushing another into the same water.
"That the story?" John had asked all three of them, though his eyes had been on Jimmy, and Jimmy's on Dean.
His boys had nodded, Jimmy adding a quick 'yes, sir' before John had stated that it couldn't have been but 40 degrees that morning and that the boys had best been on their way to school when this'd happened.
"You hurt those boys, Dean?"
"Didn't give them anything they didn't deserve, Dad," Dean'd told John. "Jimmy's a good kid, he didn't do nothing to those jackasses."
"Dean," a warning from John.
"Sir," Jimmy had spoken up, "I don't want to cause any trouble. I just wanted to give Dean this back before...," Jimmy'd glanced at the half packed duffel bags by the closest bed. "I just wanted to say thank you." He'd stepped into the room for the first time, Dean's brown leather jacket in his hand.
"I told you, Jimmy, you didn't have to worry about it," Dean's fingers had brushed Jimmy's when he'd accepted the jacket back, John had noted, filing away the faint color that had risen on Dean's cheeks as maybe some form of modesty that John had never noticed before.
"You must have been cold throughout the day in just your short sleeves," Jimmy had said, and John'd mentally chided himself for not noticing earlier that Dean had come home in nothing but a tee shirt.
"Nah, I'm pretty hot, naturally," Dean had joked in his familiar way and Jimmy'd smirked, "besides, couldn't let you walk home in nothing but those wet clothes, could I?"
Jimmy had stepped closer to Dean then, too close, John had thought, though Dean hadn't backed away. "Thank you, Dean."
That color had risen higher on Dean's cheeks when he'd looked Jimmy in the eye, "Yeah, you know, you're welcome, Jimmy."
John'd clapped Jimmy on the shoulder then, told Sammy to grab his keys. "Come on Jimmy, me and Sammy'll see you home, getting dark out there now."
Jimmy had turned those bright eyes up at John then, nodding almost imperceptibly before being led out of the room without a word.
"Yeah, see ya'," Dean'd said before tossing his jacket onto a old chair, never noticing the slip of paper that had fallen out of the pocket.
~~~~
John pulled up across the street from Jimmy Novak's house and cut the engine, opened his journal to a faded piece of paper written in a hand Dean would never recognize.
Those who live within The Lord have never seen each other for the last time.
Word Count: 1000
Rating: PG
Characters: John, Dean, Sam, Jimmy Novak
Spoilers: None
Summary: AU. There was something weird about that Jimmy Novak kid, something John could never forget.
A/N: Thank you SO MUCH to kimboosan who helped me flesh this idea out and encouraged me to write it. This was meant to be the first part of my big bang, but instead it's now a series of John-centric fics.
I Swallowed Hard, Like I Understood
He'd remembered the kid with the unnervingly bright eyes and out of place old soul. Couldn't recall the name of the school or the town, but the kid, Jimmy, that boy stuck with him. He'd come knocking on their door one day, not at all swayed by said door rusting off its hinges in some run down old motel on some dusty old back road he'd likely been told by his folks to stay away from. John had been at the ready, sawed off full of salt aimed at the door, whispering to Dean who was two steps behind with a protective hand out in front of Sammy and a knife in the other, that he'd never known no demon to knock first.
"Best tell me who it is," John had all but ordered before the kid had said he was looking for Dean.
Sammy had run towards the door then, darting past both John and Sam, shrieking in his still prepubescent voice something about no one ever coming to see them and Jimmy and how freaking awesome was this. John had tucked the gun behind him and up against the wall, taken a step towards the door and the awkward looking, skinny kid. He'd called him sir then, Jimmy had, respect in title and in those bright eyes looking right at him. John had wanted to ask him questions, military training and hunting skills always keeping his every nerve on edge. He'd wanted to ask how he'd found them there in that shit hole of an abandoned old motel, why he was looking at Dean like he'd just struck gold and why he shouldn't just pull the plain old pistol out of his waistband and shoot the kid square between those weird eyes that he ain't never seen on a human before.
Dean had stepped past John, genuine surprise and something like curiosity tucked all messy behind his emerging hunter's mask when he'd looked at Jimmy, asked him what the hell he was doing there, how the hell he'd found them. Dean'd looked at Sam and John knew that he'd wanted to blame him, to maybe rationalize that excitement over an unexpected visitor and come to the conclusion that sure, Sammy had told this Jimmy kid where they were but Dean had never been one for getting his baby brother into trouble, even at his own expense and John had held on to that feeling of pride for his boy even as the prickling awareness of the situation had crawled over his skin.
"Friend of yours?" John had asked Dean, eyes square on Jimmy.
Dean had stammered, not at all like himself with the unsureness of his answer before Sam had interrupted, reminding Dean how awesome he'd been that morning and how those boys had deserved what Dean had done to them before quietly asking Jimmy if he was okay. John hadn't needed to ask Dean anything then, the boy was obedient almost to a fault when John was around, knowing that he best come clean with the morning's events or there'd be a price to pay. He'd spit it all out quickly and without preamble, the story about the steroid injecting, jacked up meat heads who'd pushed Jimmy off the rickety old dock and into the cold November water and about how Dean'd just returned the favor for Jimmy, scaring one kid to run right off and pushing another into the same water.
"That the story?" John had asked all three of them, though his eyes had been on Jimmy, and Jimmy's on Dean.
His boys had nodded, Jimmy adding a quick 'yes, sir' before John had stated that it couldn't have been but 40 degrees that morning and that the boys had best been on their way to school when this'd happened.
"You hurt those boys, Dean?"
"Didn't give them anything they didn't deserve, Dad," Dean'd told John. "Jimmy's a good kid, he didn't do nothing to those jackasses."
"Dean," a warning from John.
"Sir," Jimmy had spoken up, "I don't want to cause any trouble. I just wanted to give Dean this back before...," Jimmy'd glanced at the half packed duffel bags by the closest bed. "I just wanted to say thank you." He'd stepped into the room for the first time, Dean's brown leather jacket in his hand.
"I told you, Jimmy, you didn't have to worry about it," Dean's fingers had brushed Jimmy's when he'd accepted the jacket back, John had noted, filing away the faint color that had risen on Dean's cheeks as maybe some form of modesty that John had never noticed before.
"You must have been cold throughout the day in just your short sleeves," Jimmy had said, and John'd mentally chided himself for not noticing earlier that Dean had come home in nothing but a tee shirt.
"Nah, I'm pretty hot, naturally," Dean had joked in his familiar way and Jimmy'd smirked, "besides, couldn't let you walk home in nothing but those wet clothes, could I?"
Jimmy had stepped closer to Dean then, too close, John had thought, though Dean hadn't backed away. "Thank you, Dean."
That color had risen higher on Dean's cheeks when he'd looked Jimmy in the eye, "Yeah, you know, you're welcome, Jimmy."
John'd clapped Jimmy on the shoulder then, told Sammy to grab his keys. "Come on Jimmy, me and Sammy'll see you home, getting dark out there now."
Jimmy had turned those bright eyes up at John then, nodding almost imperceptibly before being led out of the room without a word.
"Yeah, see ya'," Dean'd said before tossing his jacket onto a old chair, never noticing the slip of paper that had fallen out of the pocket.
~~~~
John pulled up across the street from Jimmy Novak's house and cut the engine, opened his journal to a faded piece of paper written in a hand Dean would never recognize.
Those who live within The Lord have never seen each other for the last time.